


Chess in Bournshire Courtyard

by Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)



Series: The Bournshire Boys [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Chess, Eavesdropping, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/pseuds/Starla-Nell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The curly-haired boy smiled, relaxed and pleased with himself, and the red-head looked serious. Sister Sienna found it refreshing to see them try each other’s usual expressions out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chess in Bournshire Courtyard

On study days, initiates loved the courtyard behind Bournshire’s Chantry. It was much larger than training grounds at community Chantries. It had room for entire classes of static and paired sword work, archery, and, in a pleasant corner under a sprawling oak tree, chess boards. The monastery kept their bagged chess pieces in a trunk for spare arm guards, helmets, and other equipment. 

At one of those boards, two youths sat. One had curly blonde hair, and the other straight red, both mops shorn short as befitting for a templar recruit. The curly-haired boy smiled, relaxed and pleased with himself, and the other looked serious. Sister Sienna found it refreshing to see them try each other’s usual expressions out. She paused near the tree in her perambulations to eavesdrop, pretending to watch the sword practice on the other side of the courtyard. 

“Mage to E7. Checkmate.” 

A full-beat rest. A tap of the king against the board, the sound of it rolling and tapping some other piece. “You know, Cullen, I can’t stand that smirk you get.” 

“How so, Alistair?” The young voice lilted. 

“You think it’s sooo charming,” continued the red-head with the rhythm of humor, “but it’s not! You’re just rubbing your victory in your opponent’s face, but you wait. I will tip your king.” 

Sister Sienna imagined Cullen’s smirk spreading into a smile. “Oh, ho! Care for another match, big talker?” 

“Yes!” Alistair snarled. Sienna smiled. These boys annoyed each other like brothers. 

“Then prepare the board.” Cullen’s amused tone held no hint of worry. 

Sienna snuck a glance at the scene. She saw both faces from here. Alistair’s thin brows drew together low over his unsquinted light brown eyes. Amused, she examined the folds crinkling his young face. Deep grooves from those eyes pressed the corners of his mouth down as Alistair set the board again. His brow wrinkled. Cullen’s expression was a study in opposites. He smiled under his tented fingers, examining the board already, his face untroubled and smooth. 

Sienna ambled on. She saw how this would end.


End file.
